Haunting-Adeline

"This another newcomer?" a nasally voice asks from my le . I turn to see
a weasel of a man standing next to me. He's at least a good three feet
shorter than I am, with a receding hairline, a hooked nose, and round
glasses.
"I am," I answer cryp cally. "And you are?"
The man smiles nervously. "Also a newcomer. My name is Larry
Verenich."
"Zack," I offer.
Several robed figures start pouring out of the room through another
black door straight ahead.
"Let's go," Dan says, nodding his head towards the group.
As I approach the door, a low hum gathers at the base of my neck,
causing the hairs to rise. The room is just like I've seen in the videos. It’s
like walking into an underground cave, only instead of moisture in the air,
it's dry and heavy. The dark space is lit by hundreds of candles lining the
rock walls. But the small flames are no match for the oppressing shadows.
We're on a rounded pla orm, a simple black rail as a barrier to about a
forty-foot drop. In the center of the room is a stone altar, a wriggling li le
girl on top of it. Black straps circle her ny wrists and ankles, keeping her in
place.
She can’t be more than six or seven years old.
The hum grows louder un l it sounds like it's coming from inside my own
head. My hands clench beneath the fabric, and I'm only thankful that the
sleeves are long enough to hide my reac on.
"To your le are the stairs," Dan says, poin ng in the direc on. “Go
ahead and stand by the altar. One of you will be offered the knife to bleed
out the sacrifice. Drink the blood, and you will be ini ated into the
Society."
I nod my head and take off in the direc on. The rocky, uneven stairs are
just around the bend, where Larry is already heading.
I li the hood over my head, glancing around the areas un l I spot the
security guards—three of them on the bo om floor where the altar is,
hidden off in the shadows. From my vantage point, I'm unable to see their
faces. But I know Michael is one of them.
Two other men follow behind me as I make my way down the steps. The
minute my foot hits the ground, a low chant begins, gaining in pitch as I